Disclosed To You
by Just Another Smith
Summary: Multichap, Incomplete: Vincent decides to take up Tifa's offer. Continuation of 'For Your Special Day'. REVISED 1ST CHAPTER.
1. Chapter 1

Disclosed To You

Disclaimer: Don't work for Square. Don't own their characters. I do not make money off of this story. If I ever get paid by someone for this, they are slap-bum crazies.

Warnings: Nothing unsuitable yet.

AN: This first one is more angsty than I usually like, and though I altered the chapter (I was a little dissatisfied), there's no getting around that. Just stay with me, I promise that it will lighten up real fast, okie dokie?

-

Tifa had a great deal of cleaning to do.

The many dishes accumulating in the sink were wafting an almost moldy stench throughout Seventh Heaven. The usually luminous and reflective marble countertop had fingerprints and cheek prints all over it as a result of fatigued customers passing out in their numb, drunken states. Sometimes, with her current circumstances being what they were, she almost envied them. The floor had muddy boot prints and lost change scattered about, she was sure.

But these tasks were hardly tended to. Of course, it was vexing her, somewhere in the back of her mind, buried under all the other, more prevalent thoughts. Eventually, though, those chores met the same fate as most other tasks did recently when met with Tifa, they fell last in line on her agenda. It wasn't that she was busy – oh, far from it – she was just weary from carrying out the same old tasks of tending a bar every day. Surely there was something different, more exciting to do? I'll clean later, she assured herself. Soon the cleaning would be a welcome break from the routine of daily life, which was fast becoming repetitive.

It all happened like clockwork each night.

At the end of a long, busy night of bar keeping, and escorting a few protesting and addled patrons out the door, Tifa would trudge upstairs with aching legs and a light head, telling herself that the cleaning could again be done later. Surely the drunks didn't care. It was their mess, anyway, right? Yes, right. So, she was justified... for now.

Sometimes throughout the course of the day, when passing the office, she'd glance at the phone, which hadn't needed answering in at least a month. Almost unconsciously and against her will, her eyes would drift over to the photo sitting innocently beside it.

On the way to her empty room, she'd make a stop to tuck in Marlene, and sometimes listen to how her own day went. Often Marlene would excitedly show her a picture she drew or colored. A wonderful artist, Tifa deemed her.

The girl was always a comforting presence in the somewhat hollow place Tifa should have called home, no matter how young she was. She had a maturity that seemed out of place for her age, and it was amazing, how easy it could be to talk to her. Often Tifa had to bite her tongue. She had to remind herself that no matter how understanding the person, it wasn't right to burden others with your problems. Especially not the young and energetic Marlene.

After all was said and done, depending on how tired her labored limbs and muscles were, she would either just tumble into bed and drape herself in layers of blankets in a vain attempt to ward off the coldness in her empty room, or lay in a tub of hot water for hours into the night until her skin was wrinkled and the water cool. And sometimes, if lucky, she would toss and turn in a fitful sleep instead of lying awake, wondering of things she couldn't do anything about.

It was almost funny, now that he was gone. When he was still here, she'd loathed the way he left his thick old boots in the middle of the hallway, and how they sat waiting for her to come along and unwittingly stumble over them, or how he would forget his coat from time to time, claiming that the cold didn't bother him as she worried constantly about his health, or how he never spoke words of true substance to her anymore, how when he did speak to her, he was always looking off somewhere else into space, doing anything that was possible to avoid eye contact.

All she'd wanted was to be a friend to him, when she'd missed the opportunity to be there for him in childhood. She'd been too naïve to notice that Cloud Strife watched over her from afar. When she found him in Midgar, she'd let her hopes climb far too high, thinking that she'd been given a second chance to show him her appreciation.

When he was still here, even if she felt invisible, at least he was _near_. If she could have his presence back in her life now, she would put up with the drifting expressions, the distant tone of voice, and even the detached mask of politeness in their conversations that worked to keep her from confronting him. She would take the bad with the good, if only to have him there. Even if he was not really with her, it was fine to have him there.

All she'd wanted was to be a friend to him. She'd let the opportunity to be there for him in childhood slip through her fingers. She'd been too naïve in those days to notice that Cloud Strife watched over her from afar with admiration in his eyes. When she found him in Midgar, she'd let her hopes climb far too high, thinking that she'd been given a second chance to show him her appreciation. Now though, she knew that she deserved to have him act as though he hardly knew her.

Tifa had fought many trying battles, done many things she considered a stain on her person, risked her life for a cause that she was so unsure of it was like a foundation shaking and cracking beneath her feet, and she'd saved the world. Everyone who knew her well enough would agree that she was a strong woman… but nobody must have realized just how weak she _felt_. Regret is a trying emotion.

That morning, she'd come downstairs to find Marlene getting out a rag and straining to reach a greasy spot on the counter. Of course she would eventually try to help out herself. All justification and excuses about the cleaning left her, and suddenly she was overwhelmed with self-disgust. How could she just let the place get this way? Before she knew it, she'd snatched the rag from the little girl, more roughly than initially intended.

"You can just tell me if I'm being irresponsible, Marlene." She muttered to Marlene over her shoulder.

"_You can just tell me if I'm being a bother, Cloud."_

And later that night, after Tifa's profuse apologies to Marlene while tucking her in, there was a gentle knock on the door downstairs.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclosed To You

Disclaimer: Don't work for Square. Don't own their characters. I do not make money off of this story. If I ever get paid by someone for this, they are slap-bum crazies. )

Warnings: Does mention of alcohol even _count_?

AN: Wow, this took longer than expected. I ran into some chinks in the first, and decided to smooth them out. Yes, I feel better now. XD And damn right it was a cliffy! Muhahaha…

I have never done a multi-chap before. So you could call this my first real story. …It has been hell.

-

Tifa nearly jumped out of her skin and from underneath the blankets at the almost inaudible knock. Her heart raced, and she mentally kicked herself for acting so high strung. It was more than likely just some confused customer who'd missed the _Sorry, we're closed_ sign, looking for a place to find more indulgence after-hours. They would go away soon.

Even despite that thought, she climbed out of her cocoon of warm comforters and stepped into the hallway, listening. As she reached the stairs, there was another knock.

She heard stirring in Marlene's room a few feet away. The girl was a light sleeper.

"Tifa?" she called as she emerged from her room, rubbing her tired eyes and casting a worried glance at the older woman.

Suddenly Tifa felt silly. Any normal person would have simply answered the door by now, but no, Tifa had to stand there at the top of the stairs, baffled, like an idiot. Perhaps she was worried about who it would be.

Nobody had bothered to visit in so long… well, except for Cloud. Though she could hardly call waltzing in without knocking, taking his ordering receipts from the office, and leaving without a trace a 'visit'.

_Just open the stupid door._ She couldn't help but smile at how goofy she must seem to Marlene right now, standing there gawking at a door as if it were dancing for her.

Marlene sat on the top step and watched, her curiosity piqued, as Tifa approached the door with utmost caution, on her tiptoes, obviously making fun of herself. Both females let out a quiet giggle.

Needless to say, Tifa was a little surprised when she opened the heavy wooden door to find herself standing nose to chest with a former comrade, Vincent Valentine. She nearly gasped, and brought her eyes to meet his.

He peered down at her over his collar, face impassive as ever. He didn't even seem to notice that she'd kept him waiting. Any other person would have given up and walked away by now.

He cleared his throat, and the sound abruptly cut through the silence. She blinked, realizing she'd drifted off, probably staring right at him.

"…I apologize, have I chosen a bad time?"

That was Vincent. A true gentleman.

"Oh! Ah… no, please come in, Vincent."

_Smooth, Tifa._

Suddenly the floor was very interesting, as she gave him a timid smile and stepped back.

He almost seemed shy, stepping in slowly and glancing around as she shut and locked the door behind him. His ruby-red eyes fell on Marlene, who watched him intently from her perch at the top of the stairs. She blinked, and the corners of her mouth turned up in a tiny, fascinated smile.

Tifa piped up from beside him.

"That's right… I owe you a drink, don't I?" She queried to no one in particular, scratching her chin up at him.

"You do not have to…"

"No need to be so humble, Vincent. I promised, right?"

All he could do was nod. She was not going to take no for an answer it seemed.

Before making her way to the backbar, she patted her hand on a stool and looked at him, gesturing for him to sit down. He complied quietly, and she stepped behind the counter, pushing her shoulders back and clearing her throat, though she already had his attention.

"May I help you, sir?" she said in an exaggerated business-like tone, apparently very entertained with herself.

He blinked in curiosity at her jocose behavior, and decided he was in the mood to humor her.

"Why, yes, you may."

She smiled. "And what may I get you today?"

He thought back, a long way back, to the last time he'd consumed any alcoholic beverages, or felt the need to indulge in such a needless poison, trying to recall what had taken place in another time, an almost completely different world when he was younger, but could not remember any previous instances. Apparently, memory was not one of his strong points since he'd awoken. Perhaps in the past he would have swept an impressed gaze over the supply of drinks Tifa had along the shelves of the backbar, but in the present, the idea of alcohol was not so appealing. Yes, water would do just fine, if Tifa insisted.

He opened his mouth to voice his request, but before he had the chance, his attention was claimed by Marlene's tiny footsteps padding over to the barstool next to him. Both he and Tifa watched her climb up and seat herself comfortably on her knees facing him. She seemed to have something on her mind, narrowing her eyes at Vincent intently. They waited patiently as she took a breath and gave voice to her concerns, pointing a tiny finger at his tattered, blood red cape.

"Mister, are you a superhero?"

Tifa attempted to stifle a wayward giggle as Vincent yet again arched a brow in utter confusion.

"I am a former employee of the Shinra Manu-…"

"He is just an old friend, Marlene," Tifa interrupted with a wide grin, obviously completely amused at the exchange.

But despite how intrigued Marlene was with this tall, dark stranger, Tifa knew that she would be tired in the morning if she did not get all the rest she could tonight. "If you go to bed now, I promise to let you meet him in the morning."

Vincent made a side-glance at Tifa, a little uneasy at the notion that he might be here in the morning. In truth, his plans were to arrive, assess how Tifa was holding up all alone running her bar, and leave if things seemed to be going well, which he had not been able to decide on quite yet. The letter from Tifa had worried him slightly, and left him wondering. Why would she be lonely, if Cloud and the others were there to keep her company?

Then it hit him. Of course Cloud was not there. The blonde still had many internal conflicts that he needed to resolve, and presently felt that he could not be there for anyone, and that all he could do was harm those who became dear to him. Vincent, more than anyone, understood that. But he also knew that Tifa put a lot of faith into the young man, and as tough as she seemed superficially, he remembered a time when he was indeed just as fragile as he knew her to truly be. Tifa had a knack for putting up a deceptive front, and the others also had a knack for being easily fooled by said façade. But, when she thought that no one was looking, when she forgot that there was one member of their party who missed nothing and saw all from behind his collar and bandana, his dark lashes, and his shield, the disguise fell and gave way to feelings that anyone could see if they only bothered to look. They would not visit her; they would not attempt to comfort her, because they hardly knew she was in need. There was no doubt about it now. His assessment about Cloud's absence had proven correct thanks to his visit, and Tifa's smile, however beautiful, was feeble.

Marlene frowned in disappointment, but knew that it would be a pointless argument. There was no reason that she couldn't wait until morning to ask the tall man if he ever thought about getting a new cape, as his was very torn.

"You promise?" she asked.

Tifa nodded in affirmation. "It's a pinky-promise."

Vincent watched as the two females hooked each other's little fingers, and a seemingly satisfied Marlene skipped back up the stairs.

When he turned back to Tifa, she was looking at him expectantly. He shifted in his seat.

"And, that drink?"

"…Water is fine."

She smiled. For some reason, she'd predicted he would ask for water, or something equally simple. He did not seem the type to be drawn to inebriants, or other unnecessary means of intoxication. In her imagination, she entertained a notion that to him it wasn't gentlemanlike to drink in front of a lady, or that maybe when he was growing up, it was not socially acceptable to drink unless on a formal occasion.

Sure, he probably just _liked_ water, but it was fun to concoct all sorts of crazy ideas for what made Vincent tick. It'd become a secret little game, back when they were still traveling together.

He _always_ twirled his gun casually on his index finger before aiming and firing at his enemy, and absently, she would make up an imaginary reason why. Perhaps it was a trick his Turk buddies taught him, when he was still working for Shinra. 'The ladies think it's great.' They might've told him.

The man never ceased to be interesting.

She realized with a start that she'd once again drifted off, yet again staring right at him, only this time with a stupefied smile on her face. Oh, wow, it would just fill her with glee to sink into the ground right about now.

"…yes, water! Coming right up." She let out a nervous laugh that was a little too high-pitched. She winced at the sound.

He nodded and gave her a look of concern, but said nothing as she straightened and turned away to hide the inevitable coloring of her cheeks and pretended to be looking for his drink.

She resisted the urge to bring her hand to her forehead. "We don't have water on tap… It's in the cooler upstairs. I'll, uh, be right down."

He watched her go, avoiding his eyes, as he tapped gloved fingers on the counter absentmindedly.

It wouldn't hurt to stay a little longer than planned. Just to… better evaluate the situation.

-

This chapter split itself into two. So. Yea…

Well anyway, reviews are welcome and appreciated, of course! 'Tis fuel for my mojo.


	3. Chapter 3

Frankly, Tifa couldn't believe that what was taking place was _really_ taking place. Out of all of her friends, the only ones she had, the friends who'd helped her rescue the world but not herself, the last one she'd expected to pay her a visit was the usually distant Vincent. And he was indeed the first visitor in a long while. It was shocking, but pleasant. Her life had become so predictable up until now.

As she made her way up the stairs, she noticed a few creaky boards. A brand new bar, the first one she'd ever run all by herself, and it was falling apart.

Upon reaching the landing, she saw Marlene's bedroom door click shut out of the corner of her eye, and couldn't suppress a knowing smile. Such a curious girl.

-

Vincent's observant, crimson eyes began to make inspectorial glances around the room. He noted the grime on the floors, the dust in the corners, and the dishes stacked on top of one another, high enough to topple over at any moment. Perhaps if he simply breathed on them they might tumble downward or collapse, like a card house. Oddly curious, he stood from his stool. The bar was beginning to look like the mansion he'd just came from. Surely Tifa noticed the bits of chewing gum stuck to the underside of the counter?

Almost compulsively, he crouched down and began to scrape away at a stubborn piece of gum with a golden digit. Not really knowing why it bothered him, it just did. Tifa had never been this messy on their travels together, it felt… wrong, to see things in this shape.

"Sorry for the wait, Vincent. Marlene wanted me to tuck her in one more-…"

He looked up at her, startled. Her expression was blank, she just looked at him and he wasn't sure why, but he felt like he'd just been caught red handed, though doing what, he didn't quite know.

It was quiet for a moment as he stood straight up.

"I noticed a few discarded pieces of gum underneath your bar, and I thought perhaps you hadn't noticed them-…"

"I noticed." She said curtly.

He was rendered silent.

"I haven't had… the time…" But of course, he probably saw right through her lame excuse, and she felt a pang of guilt when he looked at her. Yes, he knew.

He almost smiled. "Perhaps I should lend you a hand."

She shook her head, eyebrows creased. "No. Really, thank you, but it's not necessary."

"But of course it is." If she didn't straighten things out, nobody would. If he needed to push her, then so be it.

Something about his statement left no room for arguments, and she found herself fidgeting.

"If you insist…"

So they got to work. They wiped off the counter, tables, and the shelves on the backbar. Tifa swept the floor and Vincent gathered the dust. Into late, late hours they cleaned.

"Vincent, we have a heater in here. Are you sure that heavy cloak is comfortable?"

"Fairly." He really had no partialities to temperature, anymore.

"Well, I'm not… complaining, or anything… it's just that, it's a bit strange, to have you wear it inside. No, that's not it. It's just…" How was she going to explain this? She let out a small, quiet laugh at how silly she must sound. "It's like you're hiding, or something."

When she looked up at him to confirm her utter stupidity, he wasn't there to give her the disapproving look she was expecting. Then she heard a rustle behind her, and when she turned to look, Vincent was placing the blood-red cape onto a stool.

She froze for a minute as she took in all she could of his face. It was strange, for someone she'd traveled almost the entire world with, to just now be revealing his entire face to her. People usually recognize each other's faces, associate faces with names, and some even judge others by their faces, and now she had a real face to associate with him.

He was gorgeous. His jaw was strong and defined, his cheekbones high, and his lips were as expressive as his eyes. His features held an indefinable quality that seemed out of place in this modern world, in this drab bar of hers, doing her necessary yet unnecessary favors.

"I apologize, do you wish for me to put it back on?" he began, snapping her out of her reverie. She flustered immediately.

"No, don't! I mean… no. I'm sure you're much more comfortable now, right?"

He just nodded. She really made him worry sometimes.

-

Tifa brought down a bucket of water from upstairs, she washed, and he dried. They said nothing; there were only sounds of scrubbing and dishes clanking together.

In a way, Vincent guessed he should be cleaning his own home, but he stopped before that thought could go further. He didn't have a home. The mansion was a place he inhabited; it was a place where he simply… existed. It was not a home of any sort. Perhaps, at one point, it was the best place to be, when he'd still felt heavily convicted for things that were no fault of his own, before he'd been sprung out of that coffin and lead around an unfamiliar world, straight to the very source of his vexations, Hojo. But now… what was he there for?

Beside him, Tifa placed the last of the plates onto the bottom shelf. Because of height differences, he'd felt obliged to take care of the glasses, which were on the top shelf.

"…Tifa."

She looked up at him. After such a long silence, hearing his voice was refreshing.

He seemed to be debating something for a moment, still drying the same glass he'd been working on at least two minutes ago, the last one. The last bit of work to be done.

"What's wrong, Vincent?"

He set the glass on the shelf, and laid his rag on the counter in front of him.

"I believe it is time for me to go."

She twiddled her fingers together and bit her lip, things she seemed to do a lot when thinking, he noticed. It was when he started to notice these subtle things that he realized it would be best for the both of them if he didn't stay any longer.

He went to the other side of the counter to collect his cloak.

Tifa's mind reeled, too fast. Where exactly was he going back to? Did she do something wrong? She didn't want to be left alone with the creaking boards and the perfectly clean bar and its demanding customers and Marlene, who reminded Tifa so much of the girl's adoptive father, who she missed dearly.

"Wait."

He turned, and Tifa was only slightly surprised to see Marlene coming down the stairs.

"Tall Man, where are you going?"

He looked at her, then to Tifa, and back at her again questioningly. Hadn't the child gone to bed earlier?

"Tifa," the girl said indignantly to her guardian. "You promised he would talk to me tomorrow. Is he leaving?"

Tifa looked at him, and there was no need for her to say anything. He was needed, if only for just a little longer.

Then she turned to Marlene. "Marlene, why are you out of bed?"

Marlene looked at her feet. "I couldn't sleep, Tifa. I was coloring in the hallway so that I could hear you and the tall man."

Tifa sighed with resignation, suddenly she felt absolutely drained.

"If I'm welcome to stay, then I will stay." Vincent said to the both of them.

-

A/N: I've kinda lost some faith in my writing. However, it's still fun to write, so I decided to finish this no matter how crappy I think it gets.

Reviews of course are appreciated and loved and cherished for eterniry and whatnot +cookies. :D


End file.
